


Warm Summer Breeze

by sunflowerb



Series: Winds of Change [2]
Category: How to Train Your Dragon (Movies)
Genre: Astrid-centric, F/M, Smut and Fluff, character introspection, mother-in-law/daughter-in-law interaction like woah
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-12
Updated: 2014-09-13
Packaged: 2018-02-17 02:10:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 11,453
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2293067
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunflowerb/pseuds/sunflowerb
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She has always been fearless. Dragons and marauders and murderous deranged teenage Viking chiefs have never frightened her. There is no reason why something as benign as her boyfriend’s mother should be so terrifying to her. </p><p>Companion/Sequel to 'Cold North Wind'. Twoshot.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Learning

**Author's Note:**

> Companion/sequel piece to my oneshot 'Cold North Wind'. While it focused on Valka and her relationship with Hiccup, this one is focused on Astrid and explores her relationships with Valka and Hiccup. Although you don't have to have read CNW to understand this one. 
> 
> Started out as a oneshot that got so long I split it into a twoshot. Part 2 will be posted tomorrow.
> 
> Sexual content ahead. Because hiccstrid can't be tamed.

His mother is alive.

Twenty years after supposedly being eaten by dragons his mother is alive.

His mother is alive and his father is dead and the dragons are all flying away and Toothless—oh gods, _Toothless_ —and she doesn’t have the slightest clue what to do or how to help him. Astrid is at his side in a heartbeat, placing her hands on his back and providing what little comfort her presence can give.

Astrid can see the question burning in his mother’s gaze. _What right have you to be here?_ Her eyes challenge. _What right have you to intrude on this family’s moment of grief?_

In answer she wraps her arms around Hiccup’s back and rests her head on his shoulder. The message is clear. _Every right,_ her actions say. She has been the one he has relied on for comfort. She is just as much, if not more so, a part of Hiccup’s family as the mother who left him.

They come to a silent understanding, and his mother buries her face in Stoick’s still chest.

x

She has always been fearless. Dragons and marauders and murderous deranged teenage Viking chiefs have never frightened her. And even when they have, she has still had the courage to push through it. There is no reason why something as benign as her boyfriend’s mother should be so terrifying to her.

Valka has been nothing but kind and accepting of her, but there’s a distinct discomfort that settles in the pit of her stomach when she’s around her. Perhaps it’s how Valka towers over her. Perhaps it’s the almost concerted effort she seems to put into making Astrid aware of how much she approves. Perhaps it’s how easily Valka is slipping back into Hiccup’s life after so long an absence.

It’s the last one, Astrid thinks. She understands the where and the how of Valka’s two-decade-long absence, but not the why. And she really doesn’t understand why Hiccup is apparently so willing to accept his mother back into his life as if she had been there all along. It’s a bizarre situation, and she’s made uncomfortable less by the strangeness of it, but more by how no one else seems to find it as strange as she does.   She wants to say something, but if mother and son have found some sort of reconciliation, far be it from her to rock the boat.

x

Hiccup has the most intense eyes she’s ever seen.

They’re most intense when looking at her, and they’re never more intense than when he’s watching her during _this._ His eyes get so dark; pupils dilated and ringed by that beautiful bright green the color of pine needles at the height of summer.

And then he twists his hips _just so_ and she’s throwing her head back against the pillow and gasping for breath.

“Astrid…” She can’t help but smile at the way her name sounds when he moans it like that.  He says her name as if he’s worshipping a goddess.  He says it and she knows she is the only woman he could ever fathom doing this with. She is the only woman he will ever want, and right now she is the _only_ thing on his mind.

He’s been stretched so thin lately. Between mourning his father and trying to manage his new responsibilities as chief he’s been a frazzled mess.

Well, she can’t take away his grief or his stress, but she can make him forget they exist for awhile.

The air in his room is freezing, but it’s beginning to get stifling under the blankets and the cold is a welcome relief as Hiccup shrugs the furs off his back. She’s so close, and her hands scrabble for purchase on his shoulders as his lips swallow her high-pitched gasps. She rocks her hips desperately into his thrusts, feeling her muscles tighten and she’s just on the edge and—

“Hiccup, I’ve just had a thought, is—oh!” Astrid’s eyes snap open and she yanks the blankets to her chest as Hiccup rolls off her. Valka stands in the doorway with a stack of parchment and a shocked expression.

“M-mom!” Astrid looks down, her heart hammering. She’s barely gotten to know Valka, and being found in bed with Hiccup months before the wedding is not exactly the impression Astrid was hoping to make. Wonderful. Valka’s going to see her as a slut now.

“I-I was preoccupied, I didn’t hear, I’m, I’m sorry, I’ll just, just go,” Valka turns and flees down the stairs and they hear the front door shut behind her.

Astrid stares at the floor as Hiccup flops onto his back beside her with a frustrated groan. “Great,” he mumbles. “I’m finally getting to know her again, and she walks in to see this.” Astrid glances at him. He’s got the heels of his hands pressed into his eyes. He drops them and sighs at the ceiling. “Just this morning she was saying how proud she was that I’d ended up such a good kid.”

“She’s gonna hate me, isn’t she?” Hiccup frowns at her, confused.

“Why would she hate you?”

Astrid gives him a bitter smile. “Because I’m the whore who corrupted her good kid.” Hiccup sits up and runs his hands over her shoulders.

“No, no, she’s not gonna think that. She’s probably gonna think ‘oh great, my son is out there chasing skirts and stealing girls’ virginites.’” At Astrid’s raised eyebrow he rephrases. “Well, one girl’s virginity.”

Astrid shakes her head. “Hiccup she’s _your_ mom. I think she’s more likely to take your side in all this than mine. And it’s not like she knows me.” She shrugs. “Besides, it’s better for her to be mad at me than at you.”

“Unless she’s just mad at both of us.” It’s almost enough to make Astrid smile. Hiccup strokes her shoulders gently. “If it comes down to it, I’ll take the blame. I’m her kid, she’s gotta forgive me eventually, right?” Astrid manages a real smile and Hiccup kisses her cheekbone and pulls her back down with him. His grin is short lived, and concern steals over Astrid’s face.

“Hey,” she says softly, running her fingers through his hair before tilting his chin up to look her in the eyes. “What’s wrong?”

He blinks and tries to look away, his eyes shifting downwards just like they always do when he’s trying to hide from things, and she has to grab his chin and force him to look at her again. He sighs; a resigned little noise in the back of his throat. “I’m messing everything up,” Hiccup says flatly, like it’s an undisputable fact. Astrid frowns and opens her mouth to answer but he continues. “I have no idea what I’m doing with this whole chief thing. And don’t tell me I’m doing great, because I’m not. I’m barely doing fine, and it’s taking everything I’ve got to do just even a passably good job.” His eyes shift away from her. “And I’m trying to build a relationship with my mom, and overall I guess it’s going alright, but she’s basically forgotten how people even work. And I want to tell her about my life, and I want her to be proud of who I am and what I’ve become, but I start telling her things and I’m suddenly hyper-aware of every bad or disappointing thing I’ve ever done, and I want her to love you, because you’re the most important thing in the world to me and--” Astrid leans forward and kisses him to shut him up.

“You _are_ doing fine,” she whispers. Hiccup opens his mouth to protest, so she rolls on top of him and straddles his hips, and the words are replaced by a throaty moan. She can feel him still hard and throbbing beneath her, and she grinds softly against him to ensure his undivided attention. “Listen to me,” she says, and kisses his forehead. “You have been dealing with so, so much; more than anyone should have to all at once.” She kisses his right eye. “And you’ve been handling it as best as anyone could in your position.” She kisses his left eye. “You’re so much stronger than you know.” His chin. “And so much more capable.” The tip of his nose. “You try so hard and you never give up.” The side of his mouth, his breaths ghosting across her cheek. “And you don’t even realize…” She presses her lips to his briefly before sitting up and shifting her hips. She stares into his eyes, that greenest of greens anchoring her, lending stability to her trembling voice even as she takes him in. “…how much that makes you a hero…” The last syllable dissolves into a gasp as she sinks down on him fully and his fingers dig into her thighs. Her eyelids flutter but she keeps her gaze fixed on his. They hold tight to each other for a moment, savoring the searing heat and sense of completion.

“Milady,” Hiccup breathes, and his hips twitch beneath hers, seeking friction, and Astrid obliges. She raises herself up and slides down on him again, pleasure shocking through her. Hiccup jerks into her next thrust and already she feels tension beginning to build. It won’t take much; not with how close she was when they were interrupted. She rolls her hips over his faster and faster. Her back arches, her nails dig into the back of the hand he has on her hip, and through it all those green green eyes bore into hers.

 He looks at her as if she is the only thing in the world, the only thing that matters; the haze of grief and fear and worry in his eyes replaced by love and lust and pure adoration. She focuses on those eyes even as her hips lose rhythm, forcing herself not to look away until the moment the mounting tension breaks and she throws back her head and sobs out his name.

And a moment later when she hears her name in a broken string of syllables on his lips as he follows her into ecstasy, she knows she has pulled him miles and miles away from everything that plagues him.

x

“Wait, so she’s fine with it?”

Hiccup frowns. “Well, she doesn’t like it, but she’s not mad either, and she knows she can’t exactly stop me, so I guess she’s just kind of…resigned to it?” He shrugs. “I think she’s just weirded out more than anything. Before that I don’t think it had really registered to her that I’m a grown-up.”

“Using the term ‘grown-up’ really loosely here, are we?”

Hiccup glares at her, but there’s a hint of a smirk on his lips. “You know what I mean.”

Astrid nods. “Yes.  Using a piece of scrap metal to sled down the ice spikes is _exactly_ the sort of thing a responsible adult in a position of authority would do.”

He starts to reply, looking indignant but playful, but then shakes his head and grabs her hands. “Okay, okay, seriously though, now.” He fixes her with a look. “You’ll be relieved to know my mom doesn’t hate you. And she told me to tell you that you don’t have to run and hide whenever you see her anymore.”

“I haven’t been running and hiding!” Astrid says, but she can’t look him in the eye as she says it. Hiccup has been avoiding Valka the last couple of days, so she has as well. Now that Hiccup and his mother seem to have come to some sort of agreement she feels some relief, though not much. Maybe she can at least face Valka now without wanting the ground to swallow her up. When she looks back at Hiccup he’s got his eyebrows raised in that way that says he doesn’t believe her and she purses her lips at him. “And even if I have, can you blame me? Your _mother_ saw us having sex.”

“Gobber’s seen us, and you didn’t avoid him after.”

Astrid rolls her eyes. “Yeah, but Gobber’s _Gobber._ ” She’d been embarrassed when that had happened, sure, especially since such intimacy was still a fairly recent development in their relationship at the time, but nowhere near what she feels about this incident. Probably because Gobber hadn’t even looked surprised. He’d blinked at them and then burst into laughter. As he’d walked away he’d shouted back telling them that as long as they kept that business out of his forge he’d promise not to breathe a word to Stoick.

Valka is different. Valka had clearly been shocked. Valka clearly hadn’t been expecting them to be at that stage in their relationship. Valka is his _mother._

But it’s fine. It’s going to be fine. Astrid resolves herself to treat Valka as if everything is just _fine._

x

The next few days are among the weirdest of her life.

With Stoick, she always felt a strange sort of pride at what they got up to behind his back. She delighted in greeting him with a smile in the village square as if she _hadn’t_ snuck out of his window that morning after screwing his son senseless while he slept peacefully in the room below. (Stoick was an unnaturally heavy sleeper. So much so that Astrid had to wonder how he hadn’t slept through all those nighttime dragon raids in years past. Hiccup had made her scream once, and they’d both panicked, expecting Stoick to come thundering up the stairs with an axe in hand any second. After several minutes of silent anxiety during which they’d alternated between trying to throw on their clothes and figure out where Astrid could hide if needed, Hiccup had snuck downstairs and found his father still slumbering away, snoring loudly. They hadn’t tried as hard to be quiet after that.)

With Valka, it is a different matter entirely. Possibly because Valka _knows_. Sometimes Valka smiles at her and Astrid feels like the older woman can see right through her. As if her and Hiccup’s debauchery is so plainly obvious that she might as well have a sign above her head that reads, ‘Two hours ago I had my thighs wrapped around your son’s head.’

She knows it’s ridiculous. Valka has behaved as if the whole thing never happened, and Astrid knows the older woman wants to forget what she’s seen just as much as Astrid wants to forget _being_ seen, but every so often…

It’s stupid, and Astrid can’t believe she’s letting it get to her like this.

Every so often they’ll be talking, and Astrid will mention something innocuous, like saying she’s going to be spending the afternoon with Hiccup. And then Valka will ask what they’re planning to do, but then she’ll catch herself, and hastily add something like, “Not that it matters,” which seems to be code for ‘if you’re going to be doing something carnal then I really don’t want to know.’  Astrid will usually catch her meaning and rush to give her a full itinerary of every single chaste activity they have planned for the afternoon. Valka never says anything, even when Astrid is so flustered that she’s obviously lying, and the whole thing is just so casual that it’s driving Astrid insane.

Because _everything_ is so casual: the way everyone is treating Valka’s sudden return from the dead, the way Hiccup and Valka are living their happy little family life as if he hadn’t spent his entire life without the slightest concept of what it was like to have a mother; the way Valka continues to assure Astrid of how much she approves of her as if there is some big reason she _shouldn’t_ ; the way they are all acting as if Valka had _not_ seen her son and future daughter-in-law in bed together.  All of it is just so casual and nonchalant and non-confrontational.

Astrid doesn’t do non-confrontational.

Astrid is the _exact opposite_ of non-confrontational.

She’s at Hiccup’s house one evening, lazing about by the fire and mending one of his shirts while she waits for her boyfriend to return from some chiefly matter or other. It’s an ordinary sort of evening for her.  Five years in and she came and went in the Haddock house as if she already lived there, and neither Hiccup nor Stoick had ever been surprised to come home to find her there waiting by herself.

Valka walks in the door, muttering to herself, and starts when she sees Astrid by the hearth. “Oh, hello dear,” she says after a moment, giving her that utterly warm, accepting smile. “Don’t mind me,” she says, waving a hand, “Years alone and I’ve rather started talking to myself sometimes.” And then she smiles and starts to walk off and for some reason Astrid just _snaps._

She puts down the needle and shirt in her hands and stands up. “Why don’t you just come out and say it?” Valka stops and turns to blink at her.

“Say what?”

Astrid feels her cheeks warm up. “That you don’t like it. That it bothers you that Hiccup and I are, are,” she looks away, “…intimate.” She forces herself to look back at Valka. “You’re always so okay with it. Like you’re _too_ okay with it. Like you’re so okay with it that you’re really not okay with it at all. So why don’t you just come right out and say it. Tell me that you don’t like what he and I are doing. Tell me that you think I’m a slut. Tell me you’re disappointed that your son picked a girl who couldn’t keep her legs closed before the wedding.” There. She’d said it. She feels better for all of about five seconds before Valka blinks at her in utter confusion and the panic sets in.

Oh sweet Freya, what has she done?

“Okay,” Valka says, taking a deep breath. “Let’s start at the beginning, there.” Her mouth purses into a thin line for a brief moment before she speaks. “First off I don’t think you’re a slut. It’d be hypocritical of me to.” She looks down and Astrid raises her eyebrows. “I was still a maid when I married Stoick, but he and I had certainly gotten a bit more physical than was generally considered appropriate.” A small smile twitches at her lips. “To be honest I was afraid to be with him that way, even though I wanted to. He was so much older than me, and certainly more experienced in those matters; I thought that if I gave myself to him before the wedding he’d be so disappointed that he’d call the whole thing off.” Her smile fades and she looks up. “It was fear that kept me a virgin, not self-control. I’ve no place to fault you your choices. That’s not why all of this bothers me.”

Astrid swallows. This was a lot less nerve-wracking when she thought she knew where this was going.“Then why not?”

“Because I…Hiccup…” Valka’s face crumples. “Because he doesn’t need me.” Astrid blinks at her. Valka continues. “It hadn’t really set in, you know, just how grown up he was. I mean, I knew he was twenty, I knew he had a girl he was going to marry, I knew he was the chief, but I didn’t really _know_ it.” She shrugs. “I don’t really know how to explain it. I had my son back, and I wasn’t thinking about it much more thoroughly than that. I wasn’t really thinking about all that him being so grown up meant. He’s my son, but he’s too old to need a mother. He’s got you.” Astrid absently tugs at the cording wrapping the furs to her arm, suddenly feeling guilty without really knowing why. Valka gives her a tired sort of smile. “Don’t get me wrong, I’m glad that he’s got you; I think it’s grand. But seeing the two of you, realizing what that means…” she trails off and casts her eyes around the room. She looks sad and more than a bit lost. “This isn’t my house anymore,” she says softly.

Her gaze lands on Astrid. “It’s going to be yours soon. It’s practically yours now. I’m not the lady of the Haddock household anymore, and I can’t keep living here for much longer. I certainly can’t keep living here once you two get married.” She looks so sad as she says it that Astrid feels a surge of remorse and takes a step forward, shaking her head.

“Of course you can,” she says, determined. “This is still your home; no one’s going to throw you out of it. Hiccup won’t mind and neither will I. You can still live here.”

Valka laughs and then gives her a knowing smile. “Oh, no, I can’t. Things change after marriage. Suddenly you don’t have to sneak around anymore and you wind up spending a _lot_ more time together.” She glances at the door to Stoick’s old bedroom, the one she now sleeps in, before giving Astrid a pointed look. “And before long you’ll be needing that spare bedroom.” Now _that’s_ a thought. Astrid’s cheeks burn but she says nothing. Valka steps forward and places her hands on Astrid’s shoulders and she hesitantly looks up. “My problems are my own, Astrid; they have nothing to do with you. I left my baby behind and _I_ have to deal with the consequences of that decision. I can’t just pick up where I left off. We have to start over and I have to find where I fit into his life, and it’s not by disturbing your place in it.”

She takes Astrid’s hands. “But I want to be a part of his life. I want to get to know him. I want to get to know _you._   You’re strong and you’re fearless and you’re not afraid to speak up; an admirable quality in my opinion.” Astrid gives her a shy smile and pulls her hands away. She’s never quite sure how to respond when Valka starts complimenting her. She’s used to having to prove herself. Having someone see her strength so easily and immediately is strangely almost unnerving. But most of all she worries that Valka doesn’t _really see_ it.

“Why do you keep doing that?” she asks, and Valka tilts her head in confusion. “You keep complimenting me.” Astrid clarifies, frowning. “Ever since you met me. As soon as you met me. You’ve been complimenting me and telling me how much you like me and how amazing you think I am and how happy you are that I’m marrying Hiccup. Why?”

Valka takes a step back and blinks at her. “Because I am?”

Astrid taps her foot, feeling restless all of a sudden. “Why? You hardly know me.”

Valka shrugs. “I don’t have to know you. I know Hiccup likes you. Is that not enough?”

“No!” Astrid bursts, flinging her hands into the air. Valka is taken aback. Her eyes go wide as she stares down at the wild, exasperated young woman in front of her. Astrid huffs and tries to compose herself; tries to tell the fifteen year old girl watching her chance of proving her merit as a warrior slip away in the arena to sit down.  She straightens her back and holds her head up high. “I’m ranked second in the dragon races behind Hiccup, and I’ve beaten him more than a few times. There’s no one on this island with better aim with an axe than me. I can speak Gaelic and a little Latin. I can cook anything as long as I have a recipe but I’ve been told that bad things happen when I try to make up my own. I can sew well enough to mend things but I can’t make anything and I can’t knit to save my life. And one year on Snoggletog I blew up half the village because I didn’t know dragon eggs explode.”

Valka nods, still looking confused. “Alright.”

Astrid sighs. “My point is, I want you to like me because I’m Hiccup’s girlfriend, but I don’t want you to like me _because_ I’m Hiccup’s girlfriend.”

Valka’s mouth forms a small ‘o’, suddenly comprehending. She looks down and worries the hem of her shirt. “I see,” she says softly. She sighs and looks up. She’s not really that old, Astrid thinks. She must have been quite young when Hiccup was born. Probably no older than Astrid is now. “Astrid, I don’t _just_ see you through Hiccup’s eyes, I want you to know that. But I don’t know you that well, you’re right.” She tries a smile. “But I like everything I do know. And I want to keep getting to know you, and I want you to keep getting to know me. I want to find out what I _don’t_ like about you. I want you to find out the things about me that’ll make me an annoying mother-in-law.” Astrid laughs despite herself, and Valka grins. “I don’t want to know _everything,_ mind you, so perhaps I should start wearing a bell or announcing my presence before I enter the house.”

Something about that wicked grin on Valka’s face makes it funny instead of embarrassing, and Astrid finds herself giggling. “Maybe that’s your annoying mother-in-law trait.”

Valka makes a disgusted face. “Oh dear gods, I hope not. Once was enough.” They’re both laughing now, and Astrid feels like something between them has lifted. When they settle Valka gives her a kind smile that for the first time doesn’t make Astrid feel nervous. “No, I think I’ll build myself a house near the stables. I’m used to being surrounded by dragons and I miss curling up next to Cloudjumper.” She winks. “And I’ll make you a deal. You teach me how to cook, and I’ll teach you how to sew and knit. I use to make all sorts of things. I made Hiccup a stuffed dragon once. I wasn’t very good at a lot of domestic things, but I was good at that.”

Astrid returns her smile and holds out a hand. “You’ve got a deal.”

Valka bypasses her hand and tugs her into her arms.

x

She gives her feet a much-needed momentary rest while she watches Hiccup dance with his mother. Valka looks the happiest that Astrid has ever seen her, and for the first time in months it feels as if the veil of sadness that had settled over Berk in the wake of Stoick’s death has lifted. Everyone in the village knew how excited their chief had been about his son’s impending nuptials, and his absence now seemed to be filled up by the joy everyone knew he’d have been feeling. Astrid remembers the first time he saw her after Hiccup had told him he intended to ask her parents for her hand. He’d beamed at her like a child on Snoggletog morning and scooped her up into a hug that could have cracked her bones, proclaiming, “My future daughter-in-law!” As she caught her breath after he’d put her down he’d given her a stern look marred by a smile and said, “Now, no more of this calling me ‘chief’ business. You’ll be family soon. It’ll be Stoick, or even Dad if y’like. But not chief.” She’d laughed and agreed and he’d kissed her forehead, and she could have sworn she saw tears in his eyes. “You’ll make a beautiful bride, Astrid.”

He used to say that a lot, and so does Valka. She used to find it strange, because she’s never given much thought to her appearance, though she is dimly aware that she’s considered beautiful, until one day Valka told her so and Gobber made a remark about wanting pretty grandbabies.

She does, as it turns out, make a beautiful bride. The dress Valka had helped her make is stunning. The cerulean silk had been passed from trader to trader all the way from other side of the world, and dragons weave throughout the elaborate motifs embroidered in gold thread and Stormfly’s scales along the hem and sleeves. Her mother and aunt had spent hours on the intricate braids in her hair while Astrid sat there trying not to giggle thinking of how frustrated she and Hiccup would be trying to pull them all out later. Her mother’s bridal crown had been lost in a dragon raid years ago, but the one Gobber had made her, his gift to her, is so elegant and delicate she’d marveled at how he’d managed it with only one hand. Gold and silver set with lapis lazuli he claimed had come from as far south as Egypt glitters in her hair.

When Astrid had seen herself all put together she’d thought she looked like a Deadly Nadder, and for the first time understood what Valka had really meant when she’d said she was as strong as she was beautiful.

And when Hiccup saw her and looked at her as if he couldn’t believe she was real, well…she could have spread her wings and flown.

The song finishes and his mother spins him around and pushes him in her direction. He takes her into his arms and gives her that look again. It’s the same one he’s been giving her all night: the one that says that as happy as they are, as much fun as they are having, he really can’t wait to get out of here and have her all to himself. It thrills her.  It won’t be their first time together, of course, but it will be their first night as husband and wife, and their first in their house now that it really is _theirs_. Hiccup hasn’t even allowed her to see the renovations yet.

She reminds herself to breathe, to live in the moment and enjoy it. She’ll only get one wedding, and she should soak up every glorious minute.

But she’d be lying if she doesn’t admit the overwhelming anticipation she feels as Hiccup lifts the bridal crown from her head, or the relief that crashes over her as the door closes behind the witnesses and they are alone at last.

They smile at each other for a silent minute before they both step forward and Astrid throws her arms around his shoulders. Hiccup buries his face in her neck and they hold each other in a tight embrace for a long moment. “I love you so much,” Hiccup murmurs into her hair and Astrid grins. He picks her up and spins her around, and when he sets her down again he’s giving her a strange sort of smile.

“What?” she asks, toying absently with one of the braids at the back of his neck. There’s a fireplace and chimney in the corner of their room, and the red in his hair shines in the firelight. She finds herself hoping their children have red hair. Hiccup shakes his head and laughs.

There’s something like awe and disbelief laced in with the love that’s been shining in his eyes all day. “Do you ever have one of those moments when you look around and you’re just like, ‘how the Hel did this become my life?’”

Astrid giggles and presses close to him. “Occasionally. What’s bringing it on now?”

His smile fades and he looks at her seriously, but the warmth doesn’t leave those intense green eyes. “I used to think you were never gonna look at me twice.”

Astrid smiles softly and presses her forehead to his. “I was always looking,” she whispers, giving his arm a light punch. “I just couldn’t always admit that I liked what I saw.”

Hiccup beams at her and she can’t resist the urge to kiss him any longer. It’s a simple, almost chaste sort of kiss; sweet and affectionate. She opens her eyes to peek at his smile before he kisses her again, and there is nothing chaste about this kiss. He pulls her against him and she grips his shoulders tightly as he devours her. Her disappointed whimper when he pulls away fades into a moan when he latches onto her neck and sucks at the pulse point. His hands are tortuously slow as he tugs loose the laces of her dress.

“Hiccup,” she breathes, and then gasps as he sweeps her legs out from under her, scooping her up bridal style. “Hiccup!” she giggles and punches his arm again.

“Something the matter, Mrs. Haddock?”

Astrid scoffs. “Well, for starters, I’m not actually Mrs. Haddock.”

Hiccup frowns at her. “Uh, yeah you are. That was kind of the whole point of today.”

Astrid waves her hand in dismissal. “No, no, no, I distinctly remember being told this morning when they were all going on about wifely duties that there’s something about how this whole marriage thing isn’t technically official until it’s been consummated or something. But of course that was all gibberish to my virginal ears. It’s not like I would have the _slightest_ idea what I’m expected to—Hiccup, Hiccup, don’t you dare, no, I will _gut_ you-- _aaahh!_ ” She screams when he tosses her onto the bed, and after that there’s a lot more laughing and kissing than talking as they help each other out of their clothes.

Those intense eyes stare into hers and her heart hammers with anticipation as he hovers over her, his hands combing gently through what hair they’d managed to liberate from her braids. “All those years ago if someone had told me that we’d end up here one day,” he says, his voice low and raspy with need, “I would have been thrilled. But you know what?” he asks, pulling her closer. His lips brush hers with every word and she wraps her legs around his waist. His voice is barely above a whisper when he answers. “That stupid kid would’ve had no idea how much I was gonna love you.”

Astrid smiles and pecks his chin. She remembers being fifteen, and watching that strange scrawny boy out of the corner of her eye, and feeling frustrated that she found him so intriguing. “Hey, be nice to that stupid kid,” she chides. “That’s my husband you’re talking about.”

Oh, and if she could capture one moment and carry it around forever it would be this one. His grin, the firelight dazzling in his eyes, the buzzing in her blood and the way her skin tingles everywhere it meets his. She wants to preserve it in her heart and keep it there for the rest of her life.

And then he breathes, “My _wife_ ,” into her ear as he enters her, and she thinks she may never feel fear again.

X

She does eventually, of course.

One night in particular, a couple years later, when Hiccup is far away and Stormfly ushers a confused and bedraggled Valka into their house. She’s not just feeling fear, she’s feeling complete and utter terror. She’s not sure she’s ever been so afraid of anything in her life. And it makes absolutely no sense because she _wanted_ this.

“Oh no,” Valka says, immediately crossing to Astrid’s side to pull her hair out of the way. “I thought the village had seen the last of that illness for the season.”

Astrid lifts her face from the bucket on her lap. “Oh, it probably has,” she says, before her stomach turns and she empties more of her supper into the bucket. She coughs and blinks up at Valka. “How do you know if you’re pregnant?”


	2. Mothers and Daughters

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They'll figure this family thing out somehow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *throws papers into the air* Sorry for posting this later than I originally said I would. I started rewriting parts, and then unrewriting parts, and that snowballed and it's basically back to where it was and I'm finally happy with it. 
> 
> This part takes place roughly two years after the end of part 1. (Excluding the scene at the end where Astrid's wondering if she's pregnant.) So basically they've been married for a little over two years when this picks up. It's more dramatic and less humorous than part 1, and it took a turn at one point that I didn't originally plan on but ended up liking so I kept it. POV gets weird in this one. Also sorry but no smut in this chapter, but I gave you like three sex scenes in part 1.
> 
> *leaves this here and runs*

She doesn’t feel right.

She keeps trying to tell them all this, but the other women just tut and smile and reassure her that she’s doing just fine. They’ve all had babies before and she hasn’t, so she has no choice but to believe them. Even so, she’s not sure she should be feeling the way she is. It wasn’t so bad earlier, the shaky feeling in her bones.  Everything about the experience has been a steady stream of increasing pain and decreasing dignity, but she doesn’t know if she’s supposed to be feeling this strange, so she doesn’t mention it. She also doesn’t know if she’s supposed to be feeling this dizzy, so she doesn’t mention it either.  Everything hurts and everything is terrible and she wants it to be over as soon as possible but every time she asks they all tell her she still has a long way to go.

It’s not very encouraging. “You’re a strong girl, you’ll do just fine,” Valka had told her earlier, when Astrid realized that the exuberant kicking her baby had been engaging in for the better part of the night was not in fact kicking at all. She’d already been tired from the lack of sleep and as the contractions grew stronger she felt herself growing weaker. They keep telling her it’s better to do it all upright, but she’d lost the strength to stand hours ago, which doesn’t seem to worry anyone as much as it worries her.

They’re all too busy being worried about the wrong things, in her opinion. She can replace the blankets, so she wishes they’d stop nagging her about stripping the bed and just let her rest. It’s not the end of the world if she bleeds through the sheets.

Her scream mingles with Stormfly’s worried screeching outside. They’d have to tranquilize her again. The nadder had heard her distressed cries all the way from the stables and neatly torn a path of destruction through Berk to get to her. Having no way to explain to the beast that her rider and her stomach-egg were in no danger the other riders had had no choice but to tie her down and keep her sedated outside. Even knowing that Stormfly is confused and worried it is some comfort having her near.

Another wave of pain hits her and Astrid screams; half a dozen voices coo reassurances in a jumble of noise as she falls back against the pillows.

“Hiccup?” she croaks, and her mother strokes her hair.

“They’ve gone to get him, dear. Snotlout and the twins flew out to get him.” Astrid wants to sob. He’s supposed to be here. She hadn’t ever fathomed having to do this without him.

“This one last thing,” he’d said before he left. “I have to take care of this one last thing, and then I’m not leaving your side until the baby gets here.”  She’d given him a crooked smile and let him go, mostly certain they had plenty of time left. But no, they didn’t, because as it turns out she’d been right all along: Gothi got the dates wrong. She hadn’t wanted to say it, but she’d felt Gothi was slipping in her old age. The elder had estimated the conception to have taken place in February, but Astrid had never felt that was right. Hiccup had been gone most of that month on official business, and they’d only gotten a handful of days together, half of which she had spent down with what at the time she’d thought was the same stomach bug the rest of the village had. It had always seemed to her more likely that she’d conceived in January, possibly even as far back as the end of December. There had a string of storms that had kept them holed up with little else to do but make love, and she honestly couldn’t remember if her supply of herbal tea had kept up with them.

But no, Gothi had assured her. She couldn’t be that far along. She’d have presented symptoms before now.  And the stomach bug that had almost definitely been the beginning of morning sickness didn’t count. But her bleeding had been irregular for a while. _Well, she’d been forgetting her Moon Tea of course, how did she think she’d gotten pregnant?_ She’s getting bigger awfully soon, isn’t she? _You’re carrying the grandchild of Stoick the Vast, girl, what do you expect!_

Everyone rushed to assure her to trust Gothi, and after a while it had been too exhausting to claim otherwise, even with the mounting memory problems the elder had been having in the last few months. Officially speaking, the baby had been conceived in February, and was therefore due in October at the earliest. Which does not explain why she is in labor on the last day of August.

 So of course everyone but her is slightly panicked that the baby has come a month early. Astrid is less panicked about the prospect of an early babe and more angry that their baby has terrible timing and has chosen to come while Hiccup and Toothless are miles and miles away meeting a neighboring tribe’s envoy to discuss trade. Even once Snotlout and the twins reach him, he is still hours of flying away. 

“Astrid, you need to breathe dear, like we told you,” Valka’s calm voice comes from somewhere near her left. She opens her eyes and tries to push herself onto her elbows again. She’s trying to breathe the way they’d taught her, but breathing at all is proving extraordinarily difficult.  She falls back onto the pillows again. Someone mops her brow with a cool cloth. One of the midwives is saying something, but she can’t quite distinguish the words. She wishes her mother would stop babbling on beside her.

“Astrid.” She blinks her eyes open. When had she closed them? Valka is watching her intently. “Astrid you need to sit up, you’ve got to push.”

The room gives a funny sort of lurch when she tries to sit up, and her mother and mother-in-law catch her under the elbows and hoist her up. “Come on now, dear thing, you’re doing just fine.”

Is she supposed to feel so _strange_? Why are they all looking at her like that? Someone tells her to push and she does and the room lurches again. There’s a lot of talking. They keep telling her to push and to breathe and don’t they understand she’s trying?

The room spins and she falls back. There’s another voice, possibly her mother’s, telling her that she has to keep pushing, keep breathing, she’s doing fine…

“I just…I just need…just a minute…” she pants, her own voice sounding far away to her ears.

You can’t stop now, someone says. You really can’t, you have to sit up, you have to keep pushing…

She reaches for what’s left of her strength and tries to sit up, tries to push, but she feels so disconnected to her own body. Someone’s hands are on her shoulders, someone is telling her she can’t stop now, and they sound worried. Astrid doesn’t know why. Was there a reason she was listening to them? She was doing something, wasn’t she, something important? There’s a last surge of effort, a last frail attempt at forcing her distant body into motion, and then there’s hands on her shoulders and elbows and face and voices loud and afraid.

_Astrid, Astrid!_ Someone is calling her name again, but from far away. She can’t see anything, can’t even seem to breathe right, and even the excruciating pain seems miles and miles away…

She slips back into cool darkness to the sound of someone screaming her name.

x

“Astrid, Astrid, oh merciful Frigga above, Astrid!” Valka steps back and watches as a hysterical Ingrid shakes her daughter’s shoulders. Her heart is beating wildly but she remains calm. Someone has to. She looks to the midwife.

Thornbloom shakes her head, looking lost. “I can’t get the baby out yet, and Astrid’s losing too much blood. We need to get the child out now, but if we can’t get Astrid to wake…”

Valka takes a deep breath. “What can we do?” Thorn doesn’t answer. “What do we do?” Valka asks again, more firmly.

“To save them both? I don’t know that there’s anything we can do,” Thorn says quietly.

“What?” Valka looks to Ingrid, cradling her daughter’s face in her hands while tears run down her cheeks.

“If we can’t wake her…She stands a chance if we can get the baby out, but if I try to pull it out I’ll likely crush its head,” Thorn says, her eyes on the floor. “Even then, Astrid has lost so much blood it may already be too late, not to mention...”

“The chief needs an heir,” Bodil finishes. The all look to the healer. “Astrid’s life is already forfeit. We move to save the babe.”

Valka’s world tilts on its axis. For a moment she can’t breathe.

“My daughter is not dead yet!” Ingrid screeches. “We wait for her to wake!”

“If we wait they both die, leaving the chief with neither heir nor wife, and you know Hiccup would rather hand the throne to Snotlout’s line than remarry.”

“If you cut my little girl open she definitely dies!”

“She might not.”

The women all look to the corner, to the healer’s young apprentice Signy. The girl is all of seventeen and still technically in training, but she’s a rider as well as a healer, and has traveled far to learn about her trade. She frowns at the floor, thinking. “I’ve heard of methods in this situation to attempt to save the mother’s life as well as the child.”

“Can you do it?” Ingrid gasps, and the girl sighs.

She looks at them and bites her lip. “The thing is, it’s still risky. So far all I’ve seen is _attempts_. Usually they bleed out anyway. I’ve seen one woman live a few hours longer but still die. But I’ve also seen what was done wrong in each of those situations. I understand the anatomy better than they did. I fully believe it’s possible if we work quickly. She’s in danger of death but she’s not _dying_ yet, and that’s a key difference here. She might still not live, but she stands a chance.”

“No!”

“Do it.”

“What?!” Ingrid cries indignantly at Valka. “Did you not hear her, we could still lose Astrid!”

Valka rounds on her. “And if we do nothing, we lose them both for sure!” she yells, and Ingrid quiets. Valka turns back to Signy. “You really believe this is their best hope?”

Signy nods. “It’s the only option where both of them living is even a possibility.”

“She’s barely breathing,” Bodil is saying, her ear to Astrid’s nose and her fingers pressed to her neck, “And her pulse is so weak I can barely feel it.” She lifts her head. “If we’re going to do anything we have to do it now.”

They all look at Ingrid. Her dark round eyes regard them all tearfully before she nods and lets her head fall onto Astrid’s shoulder. Valka looks at Signy. “Save mother and child if you can,” she says, her voice strong despite her fear. “But if not…” she trails off, looking at her daughter-in-law. “If you can’t save the babe then save Astrid. And if you can’t save Astrid then save the babe. But save one of them. For the love of the gods, save one of them.” She pictures Hiccup and Astrid, holding each other and mourning their first baby. She pictures Hiccup, crying as he rocks the child he’s been left to raise alone. Both scenarios feel like ice in her chest, but not as much as the image of Hiccup alone in this empty room. “Hiccup won’t survive the loss of both.”

x

Ingrid is pulled, still crying, into a chair. Signy snaps out orders and everyone scrambles to get her what she needs. Hot water, soap, Gronkle iron knives, herbs, a needle and silk thread…Valka remains calm and collected, delegating jobs, helping Signy prepare her tools. Bodil keeps an eye on Astrid’s life signs. There’s a flurry of wings and shouting outside, and Valka immediately hands her bowl of herbs to Thornbloom and heads for the door, sweeping past the corner where Astrid watches.

She pulls her attention from the still form on the bed, where the women are pulling the nightgown over the swell of her belly, and looks out the window. Valka is running over to where Hiccup is dismounting Toothless, his face a mixture of excitement and terror. “Is it over? Did I miss it? How’s Astrid? Is it a boy or a girl?” She watches as Valka puts her hands on his shoulders and says something to him too quietly for her to hear, but she can see the horror that steals over her husband’s face. He falls to his knees, shaking his head.

“I think she’s stopped breathing.”

Her mother wails.

“Have you finished with the speed stinger venom?”

“Yes, but we haven’t prepared the--”

“That’s good enough, hand me the knife,” Signy says.

“She has. She’s stopped breathing.” And there’s Bodil. “Val! She’s stopped breathing!”

She watches Valka and Hiccup look to the window, and then Hiccup is on his feet, Valka tearing after him, calling his name. Her mother wails louder and then the room is silent for a moment before a new voice fills it with screaming. She turns. Her mother is on her feet and accepting into her arms something wrapped in blankets from Thornbloom. Somewhere in her hazy mind it registers what that bundle is. Signy and the other women are still huddled around her belly, doing something.

“Astrid, Astrid!” The door slams open and Hiccup is rushing past, Valka on his heels.

“Hiccup, no!”

“Chief, I need you to stay back!”

“It’s time.”

Astrid looks behind her. “Just a minute more. I want to see.” Stoick nods. She turns back to the chaos before her. Valka restraining Hiccup, the huddle of women around the bed, the tiny red arm waving from the bundle of blankets in her mother’s arms.

“I can’t feel a pulse.”

“No!” Valka falls to the floor as Hiccup pushes away and runs to collapse by the side of the bed. “Astrid, no, please…” Astrid watches as he takes her limp hand in his and kisses her knuckles. “C’mon, milady, you can’t leave me yet.”

“Time’s up,” Stoick says behind her.

“Will they be okay?” she asks. Hiccup has buried his face against her shoulder, and her mother has handed the baby over to Valka before falling to her knees on the other side of the bed.

“Depends on you,” Stoick replies. Valka approaches Hiccup and puts a hand on his shoulder. The baby screams and Hiccup flinches. He shakes his head and Valka steps away, casting a worried look at the child in her arms. He doesn’t want to see it, Astrid realizes. Whether because he blames it or because he simply can’t bear to look at it, she’s not sure, but he doesn’t want to see the baby.

“I can’t leave them yet.” She looks back at Stoick, who is giving her a familiar proud, affectionate smile.

He steps forwards and places heavy hands on her shoulders. “Aye, lass, I know you can’t.” He leans down, and Astrid closes her eyes as he places a warm, bristly kiss on her forehead. “I _told_ them you’d choose to fight.” And his warm laughter carries her into darkness.

x

There’s early morning sunlight streaming in through the window when her eyes flutter open. She frowns. It was dusk only a moment ago.

“Astrid?” She blinks until her vision clears and she sees Hiccup, clothes and hair disheveled and circles under his eyes, sitting in a chair beside the bed. His tired eyes light up when he sees her awake and his face breaks into a relieved smile. “Oh gods,” he breathes, leaning forward to pepper kisses all over her face.

“What happened?” Astrid murmurs. Her body feels heavy, and her mind still numbed by sleep.

Hiccup exhales shakily. “You tried to die on me,” he says, his lips curled in a wry smile. “Don’t you ever do that again.” Astrid looks over his shoulder at the empty corner of the room by the door. She’d dreamt it. She must have. Or perhaps she’d been just conscious enough for her addled mind to construct the images?

“Astrid?” She turns her attention back to her husband; the vision, or whatever it had been, already starting to fade from her mind.

She blinks. “Nothing.” She tries to sit up, and immediately Hiccup is jolting forwards and gently pushing her back against the pillows.

“No, no, no, no, no, you can’t sit up,” he says. Astrid winces as sudden pain sears across her stomach, relaxing away as she rests on her back again. She realizes for the first time that her entire abdomen feels numb. There’s a dullness and an ache from the bottom of her ribcage down to the top of her thighs. “They had to cut you open to get the baby out,” Hiccup explains as Astrid looks down at herself, at the significantly smaller swell of her stomach. “You have to be careful not to move too much for a few days to let it heal. Signy said it’ll probably leave a scar, but otherwise you’ll be fine eventually. She’s numbed you up with speed stinger venom in the meantime. She saved your life. I think I’m going to give her a yak. Or twelve. And an island.”

Astrid nods. “I’m sorry I scared you.” She musters a smile. Hiccup laughs, a tired, relieved sound that for a moment makes him look less exhausted. He leans in and presses a kiss to her temple.

“I’m just glad you’re okay. Both of you.”

For the first time Astrid notices the wooden cradle at the foot of the bed. Hiccup notices her line of vision. “She’s outside with Mom and Toothless. You should see him; he doesn’t really know what to make of her but he thinks she’s fascinating, if a little loud.” He laughs. “She’s got lungs like a harpy.”

“She?” Astrid looks at Hiccup, a small smile curling the corners of her mouth. A grin splits Hiccup’s face.

“She.”

Astrid looks back at the cradle. She’s filled suddenly with a longing the likes of which she’s never experienced before. Her chest aches and her throat tightens with the force of it.

“You wanna see her?” Astrid can only nod dumbly. She knows the cradle is empty but she can’t tear her eyes from it, from what it represents. “I’ll be right back.” He rises and leaves the room, and it feels like an eternity before the door creaks open again. She looks up, her heart pounding as he steps into the room, beaming down at the bundle of blankets in his arms. Toothless follows him, his ears perked straight up like a rabbit’s. His large green eyes lift from the little thing in Hiccup’s arms and he gives her a huge gummy grin and a delighted warble.  It takes all of her self control not to leap from the bed. 

And then Hiccup has reached her and is placing the squirming, cooing little bundle into her arms and her entire world stops. Round green eyes look up at her from a wrinkly pink face. Astrid hardly dares breathe as she runs a hand over the soft red hair on her daughter’s head. She’s such a tiny thing, but she’s strong and she’s already got the Hofferson look of determination down. Astrid leans down and presses kisses all over her eyelids, her tiny nose, her ears, her minute fingers and soft little palms. She’s never felt happier or more terrified. She hasn’t felt like this since that first flight, all those years ago.  She doesn’t have words, and when she looks at Hiccup, at the joyous grin on his face that matches hers, she knows she doesn’t need them.

Astrid laughs as Toothless gently nuzzles her face, then leans down to lick the top of the baby’s head, leaving the soft hair sticking up. The dragon surveys his work and nods, a satisfied coo rumbling in his throat.

“She still needs a name,” Hiccup says, reaching out and letting their daughter wrap her tiny hand around his finger.

Astrid draws the child closer to her breast and sighs happily. “Eira,” she says. “For the gods’ mercy. Neither one of us should have lived.”

Hiccup nods and kisses her again, his free hand tangled in her hair. “For the gods’ mercy.”

x

She doesn’t know what she would do without Valka.

Hiccup was loathe to leave them, but he’d left the Boulderhead chief waiting on a boat in the middle of the sea for two days and had to hurry back to patch up the damage lest all trade negotiations fall through after Snotlout’s disastrous attempt at diplomacy in his place.

Astrid’s still exhausted, still essentially bedridden while the incision in her stomach heals, and still in far more pain than really seems fair given that she’s done her part and the baby is out now. She does what she can, but she’s still not allowed to move much. Her own mother helps too, and babysits during those hours when Astrid just desperately needs some quiet to rest, but it’s Valka who spends every waking moment keeping the house from falling apart.  She cooks and changes diapers and helps Astrid move in the two minutes a day she’s allowed out of bed. Astrid for her part is able to sit up and hold her daughter and little else. It’s a level of dependency that makes her thoroughly miserable.

She feels like a failure as a mother. Childbirth had almost killed her and nursing is proving to be a frustrating and futile endeavor for everyone involved. Eira would suckle fitfully for a couple of painful minutes at the most before pulling away to cry and fuss. Astrid’s cousin had had a baby some months before and has stepped in to help with feedings, which Astrid has found she cannot bear to watch. She’s been taught to make a yak’s milk formula and been assured her daughter will not want for nutrition, but the feeling of inadequacy remains. It’s not a feeling Astrid is accustomed to accepting.

On top of that she sometimes feels crushingly sad without knowing why. One afternoon she starts bawling out of the blue for no reason at all, which frustrates her to such a degree that she just cries harder. It’s then that Valka wraps her arms around Astrid’s shaking shoulders and holds her close. She doesn’t shush her, doesn’t tell her there’s no reason to cry. She just holds her and rocks her and kisses her hair as if Astrid were her own child.

“I know,” she says. “It happens to all of us. You start feeling mad while you’re pregnant and it doesn’t stop until long after your child is born. But I promise, dear girl, you’ll start to feel yourself again in time.”

“I have no idea what I’m doing,” Astrid says brokenly, “I’m a terrible mother.”

“No, you are not,” Valka scolds, and Astrid is surprised at the ferocity of her expression. “I know what it is to be a terrible mother, and you are _not_ a terrible mother. You’re a new mother, that’s all.” She strokes Astrid’s hair and gives her a tender look. “You’re far too critical of yourself, Astrid. You’re so gifted at making other people see their own strengths when they can’t see it themselves; don’t you think it’s time you gave yourself the same benefit? No one knows what they’re doing at the beginning. Give yourself time, brave girl.”

Astrid just nods and buries her face in Valka’s shoulder, because she can’t seem to manage anything else.

x

For two and a half years in the back of her mind Astrid has wondered.

She’s never said anything, never dared bring it up to either of them, never felt it was her place to scratch at those old scabs, but she has wondered.

She knows they have found closure; that Hiccup has extended his forgiveness and he and Valka have forged some sort of bond from the wreckage. She knows that Valka had her reasons, and whatever they were Hiccup had deemed them acceptable, or else they were in agreement that they were unacceptable and Valka’s remorse had made up for it. One way or another, the past had been laid to rest between them.

It hasn’t stopped Astrid from wondering.  Over the past couple of years it has mostly been in the form of the odd thought now and again. Valka might reference her memories of Hiccup’s infancy, or they might mention something from his childhood that Valka had missed and have to explain it to her. But as much as she’d wondered, Astrid had never never let herself ask. It was just morbid curiosity. A desire to know about a situation she didn’t fully understand.

But now it is a question that is eating her alive.

“How could you do it?” She doesn’t even mean to ask it. It just slips out one evening. They are expecting Hiccup back by nightfall, and some part of Astrid realizes that if she’s going to ask she needs to do it now, but the words still surprise her. She’d been biting it back for so long, but looking down at her own baby in her arms she can’t keep the burning question at bay any longer. She’s a mother now. She needs to know. She needs to understand, because right now she looks down at her child and she can’t even _fathom_.

Valka looks up from the tiny dress she’s sewing. “Do what?”

“How could you do it?” Astrid repeats, and there is disbelief rather than accusation in her tone. “How could you leave him?” Valka sets down her work and exhales shakily. “I’m sorry,” Astrid says quickly. “But I just need to know. Because you left him. I know you didn’t plan to leave but you didn’t come back, either. You just walked out of his life and didn’t come back for twenty years. And you wouldn’t have come back at all if he hadn’t found you.” She looks down at her sweet baby, the one she can’t bear to be away from for more than a few hours. Her heart aches at just the thought and she holds Eira closer. “How could you bear it?”

She’s met with silence and when she looks up Valka is staring at the floor with empty eyes. She doesn’t look offended, just…sad. “I couldn’t,” she says finally. “Not for a long time.” She sighs. “I was so young when I had Hiccup. I married Stoick at seventeen and I was nineteen when Hiccup was born. Twenty when I was taken. At first I was afraid of what might happen if I went back. I was young and scared and I didn’t think there was any way I could return without someone, human or dragon, getting killed, and I couldn’t bear that. I knew the dragons I befriended wouldn’t hurt me, but I was worried what they might do if I asked Cloudjumper to take me back. If the villagers attacked and the dragons tried to defend themselves…” She shivers. “I’d already almost gotten my husband and son killed once. I was afraid it might happen again.

“So for a while I stayed away out of fear and guilt. I told myself I’d go back eventually, in those early days, but I had already decided to stay with the dragons without even realizing it.” She looked out the window but her eyes were far away. “I told myself that everyone would be better off without me. Stoick was the chief, I always thought he’d remarry. That would have been the expectation. Find a new wife; a new mother for Hiccup. Have more children. I never dreamed he’d stay alone all those years.”

“That’s still not what I asked,” Astrid says gently and Valka nods and sighs.

“I know it’s not.” She glances at Astrid and the baby and a small smile tugs at her lips. “It must be hard to imagine with the way things are now, but the village wasn’t always so receptive to the idea that we might not have to fight the dragons. Stoick certainly wasn’t.” She looks out the window again. “I was young and naïve and completely in love, so of course I thought I could change his mind. I was his wife, after all, and if anyone could convince him surely I could.” She frowns. “But of course it didn’t work that way. I tried and tried but nothing I could do or say could make Stoick or anyone else even consider that there might be another way. It would have been an unpopular opinion for anyone to have, but I was the chief’s wife so you can imagine how well that went over.” She looks at Astrid again.

“You know by now what it is to be a chief’s wife. You know what expectations and obligations come with filling that role. And if you haven’t realized already then you will in time that giving the chief an heir means more than just bearing and birthing his child. That’s the future ruler of this island you’re holding in your arms right now.” Astrid looks down at her baby. She’ll be the first ever chieftess of Berk. The prospect is both exciting and a bit scary. “There’s a certain kind of person she has to grow up to be, and it’s your job to raise her into that person.” Astrid holds Eira a little tighter. Those green green eyes blink sleepily at her and Astrid strokes a finger over her head. She’s not ready to think about all that just yet.

“You were afraid of the responsibility?”

“Not of raising a chief, no, but more of raising that kind of chief.”

Astrid looks up, frowning. “I don’t follow.”

Valka shrugs. “Well, you wouldn’t. You and Hiccup are in agreement that that girl will grow up on dragonback. Toothless is practically a dragon nanny as it is. You don’t have to worry about raising the next great dragon slayer.”

“Oh.”

“Oh, indeed.” Valka closes her eyes, tension creasing her forehead. “I wanted my son to grow up in a world at peace with dragons. I wanted to teach him a different way of dealing with them. I wanted to show him that he didn’t have to fight them.” She opens her eyes, concern and distress painting her features. “And I knew Stoick would never let me. Our son was supposed to be chief. Stoick would want to raise him to be a warrior. I knew my boy would grow up being taught to hate the dragons. To fear them and kill them.” She swallows and blinks at the tears that have gathered in the corners of her eyes. “And I couldn’t bear to see that.” She looks at Astrid, her eyes wide and wet and pleading. “I don’t expect you to condone my choices. _I_ don’t condone many of them. But I had no way of knowing back then how Hiccup would turn out. As much as it hurt to stay away, it hurt more to think of my sweet boy growing up to be that sort of mindless killer.” She shakes her head. “I wanted no part of that. I didn’t want to see my son become the sort of person he was supposed to become. I’d rather not see him at all.”

Astrid just nods.

“Val, can you take her for a minute?” Valka crosses to her and Astrid hands the baby over.

“I certainly can, come to Nana Val, sweetheart.” Valka beams down at her granddaughter and it makes Astrid smile. “What do you need, dear?”

“Oh nothing,” Astrid says, and Valka blinks at her in confusion. “I just wanted to remind you.”

Valka frowns, still bouncing Eira in her arms. “Remind me of what?”

“That you’re getting a second chance.” Astrid smiles at her. “I don’t know what we’d do without you, Valka.”

Valka stares at her for a moment with something like relief mixed with amazement. She opens her mouth to speak but suddenly there is the flapping of wings outside accompanied by a low rumbling roar. Astrid nods towards the door. “Go on, I can wait.”

“He’ll be wanting to see his family first,” Valka says.

Astrid shrugs, beaming. “You are his family.”

There’s an unspoken thanks radiating out of Valka’s eyes that turns to unbridled love when she looks back at Eira as they walk to the door. “Come on, little hatchling, let’s go say hi to Daddy…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some things to know: 1. Eira means 'merciful' or 'gods' mercy' and stuff like that. 2. Historically speaking cesarean sections were last resorts when the mother was beyond saving for most of history. However, Berk seems like they would be a bit ahead of the curve when it came to technology. 3. Don't even ask me what like half of that birth scene was guys because I don't even know. 4. Astrid is fiercely competitive and doesn't like not being at her best. I thought it was interesting to explore how that mixes with new motherhood and post-partum depression. 5. I need to stop looking at this thing now.


End file.
